


Bang!

by orphan_account



Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 08:21:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1811704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Strongly influenced by the lyrics of Nancy Sinatra's Bang Bang (My Baby Shot Me Down), and the story told through the song. <br/>His heart had been broken the day they took his love away. He remembered everything they did, what they had said... He'd end all the pain and suffering with one last 'Bang.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bang!

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! Hello! I really don't even know where this came from... I was listening to the song, and then I kinda put it into the form of a story. Thought process: This is a really pretty song.... Oh hey, what if we put Frank and Gerard in this scenario... I own nothing used in this story. Everything belongs to it's respective owners.

_The little boy stood, his fingers poised to mimic a gun, closing one hazel eye and pulling back his hand._

“ _Bang, bang!” The young boy across from him halting in his steps, grabbing at an imaginary wound and falling into the green grass._

“ _You got me!” The younger of the two cried as the other got closer. He closed his eyes, his tongue hanging out of his mouth to imitate a dead corpse._

“ _Oh Frankie, I didn't hit you. It hit the bad guy in front of you!” The older said, kneeling down next to the other boy. When he didn't get up, the older of the two started to worry._

“ _Frankie?” He lightly shook the boy on the ground, fear and sadness lacing his voice, “Frankie, you can get up. Please? Frankie!” The boy cried, throwing his arms around the younger boy's frame, actual tears beginning to form in his eyes._

“ _Gee?” The small voice caused the older to gasp, releasing his grip a bit to look at the other boy.  
“Frankie! You're alive!” Gerard cried, resuming the squeezing embrace until the other boy tried to pry him away. _

“ _Can't breath Gee,” Frankie said, his voice strained.  
“Oh, sorry,” Gerard loosened his grip once more, grinning happily at the five year old in front of him. Frank looked up at him, a loose smile on his lips as well, as he grabbed the other boy's hand. _

“ _Boys! Time for dinner,” Donna called from inside, signaling the boys to go inside.  
“I'm glad you didn't die, Frankie,” The six year old said, placing a small kiss on the younger's cheek before getting up and running inside. Frank lightly touched his cheek running a finger over the spot where Gerard had kissed. He smiled as he got up and ran in the house after him. _

 

He sat in the cheap hotel room, lightly touching his cheek as he looked over the papers on the desk. Floor plans for each floor of the corporate abomination known as Better Living Industries. A purple mask perched atop shaggy brown hair made sure to keep any stray pieces from falling in his face as he went over the plans once again. Colors stained his tanned arms, painting vivid images of saints and fallen family members, obscured by the dirty yellow sleeves of his jacket. Every fiber of him lit with a dark determination, something that bubbled just underneath his skin. It was the same darkness that had been planted in him after the incident happened, after everything was ripped away from him in a matter of moments... Determining that he was at last ready, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes off of the table, the lighter already in his pocket. He strode toward the door, grabbing the soft brown holster from the doorknob, he secured it around his waist. Placing the rubber mask over his face, he walked out of the cheap room, leaving the door open as he pressed the button on the detonator in his hand.

 

“ _Babe?” Frank called into the darkness of the room. The gymnasium wasn't being used today at all, and Frank had wondered why he was even here. He hated this place, hated it with such a passion, it took every fiber of his being not to burn the place down. A note in his locker that morning had directed him here, written in his love's messy scrawl._

“ _Gee?” Frank tried again, dropping his bag on the hardwood floor, flinching at the loud 'Bang' the action produced.  
“Over here Frankie,” Gerard's voice was a comfort in the dark room, something guiding him and telling him everything was okay. He walked toward where the voice originated from, looking around for any physical signs of Gerard. _

“ _Where are you?” Frank asked, his voice echoing through the gym, suddenly sounding too loud in the pitch blackness._

“ _Over here, just follow my voice.” Frank could hear the smile in Gerard's voice. Frank wished he could see that smile, Gerard always had the most gorgeous smiles. Frank continued in the direction that Gerard's voice was coming from, cautiously taking each step, careful not to scuff his Converse against the hardwood floors._

“ _What's going o-” Frank cut off as he walked into the body of another person. Smiling a little as skinny, strong arms wrapped around his waist, steadying him before he got the chance to do so himself._

“ _I've got you,” Gerard's voice was right in his ear then, his breath hot as it ran down his neck. A shiver ran though him, the soft breath on his skin contrasting greatly with the cool air pumped into the dark gym._

“ _Gee-” Frank's hands came up to where Gerard's were, wrapping around his long artist fingers and pulling them away from his sides. Intertwining their fingers, Frank wore a small smile as he pulled Gerard to meet him halfway. The room seemed to explode with heat as their lips met, lighting both of their skins on fire._

“ _Frank-” Gerard cut off, pulling back from the kiss with a soft 'smack,' “Frankie...”  
“Shut up and fucking kiss me,” Frank practically growled, the sound bouncing off of the walls of the gym, coming back ad sounding foreign to his own ears. Gerard happily complied with his request, pulling them flush against one another as their lips met again, passion hitting them both head on. _

“ _Promise you won't forget me,” Frank said, an hour later, as they lay in the back of Gerard's car, sweat slicked skin sticking to the leather seats. He idly played with their intertwined fingers, bringing them up to look at them in the pale moonlight. Gerard placed a finger underneath Frank's chin, lightly directing his face up to meet his gaze._

“ _Never,” He whispered, pressing a small kiss to Frank's nose, bringing their hands up to press a lingering kiss to the back of Frank's._

 

He watched in a sort of disgust. Joyful music blared through the doors of the church as they were thrown open. People filed out, lining up at the sides of the aisle, tossing handfuls of white rice into the air. A beautiful bride and groom ran out, the woman shielding herself with her bouquet of white roses. He pushed the mask up his head, looking down at the group gathered across the way. It was a lovely ordeal, everything decorated in soft colors, everyone so happy to see the lovely couple. A single tear fell from his eye, trailing down his cheek as he watched the two getting into the car. Kneeling on the dirty roof of the old building, lacing his fingers together. He ran a finger over the textured skin of where the tattoo was, wrapped right around his third finger, a constant reminder. The silver band had remained in his pocket, keeping it there as a joyful memory of the most precious day of his life. 

 

_The church was decorated, velvet red bows placed at the end of each pew. In the middle of each bow was a small jeweled skull, a small inside joke between families. Frank stood in the small dressing room in the back, fixing the red tie around his neck.  
“You look amazing, Frankie,” His mother said, standing in the doorway with a look of awe on her face. _

“ _You look good,” Frank's father said, coming in after his mother, carrying a small black box._

“ _Thank you.” Frank nodded, moving to fix his hair, only to be stopped by his mother, her hands coming up to run through it and place it._

“ _Here,” Frank's father said, pushing the small box into Frank's hands, “Although it's not the same, it's tradition.” Frank looked up at his father, before down at the box, and up again. He inhaled deeply, opening the lid, tears threatening to spill onto his cheeks as his eyes fell of the small blue guitar pick. It had been one of his favorites growing up, and true to the traditional saying, it was something old, borrowed, and blue._

“ _Thank you, I love it,” Frank reached up, wrapping his arms around his father's neck, one of his father's arms coming up to curl around his back._

“ _You're welcome,” His father's voice came across strained, choked, as if he was trying to hold back tears._

“ _Come on you two... Someone's waiting for you,” His mother said, lightly patting Frank's arm. Her eyes were glassy, cheeks red and puffy as she brushed a few free falling tears away from her eyes._

“ _Alright,” Frank pushed away, checking his reflection once again in the mirror. He ran his fingers under his eyes, trying to get the tears threatening to fall out of his eyes, as to not mess up the thin lines of eyeliner._

_Walking out to the large doors leading into the church, Frank stood with his arm out, waiting for his mother to grab his arm. She gratefully took it, nodding to the doorman with a smile. Excitement buzzed through his skin, hiding the nerves and sending him into a spiral of happy little jitters. He found it impossible to keep the smile off of his face as the music started to play, signaling his to begin walking. The whole church stood, their eyes trained on the man and his mother, all with huge smiles on their faces, but none as big as the man's at the end of the aisle. Gerard had one of his signature smiles on his face, his hands folded neatly in front of him, his black hair neatly combed out and left in a controlled chaos on top of his head. Their eyes met, Frank feeling a small tug at his heart as the thought ran through his head. This was the man he fell in love with, all those years ago. When the day Gerard had thought he had killed him with his little 'bang, bang,' of his fake gun, the day that he first kissed him, even if it was only on the cheek... from that moment on, it all led up to this moment, the moment where everything seemed to just fall into place, where everything seemed perfect. Frank let his mother sit down, letting her drop his arm as he approached the altar, a ridiculous smile on his face._

“ _You may be seated,” The preacher nodded, a small smile of his own placed on his face._

“ _Dearly beloved, we gather on this beautiful day, to witness the forever bonding of Frank Anthony Iero Junior, and Gerard Arthur Way-Lee.” The ceremony began, Gerard's hand finding his own as the preacher carried on through the traditional readings. Frank chanced a glance over at Gerard, smiling a little and squeezing his hand as Gerard wiped at his eyes._

_Frank's eyes watered as the rings were placed, Gerard placing the small silver band on Frank's finger, right over the tattooed ring there. He grabbed Frank's hand after, bringing it up to his lips and kissing the cool silver, turning it warm again._

“ _Forever,” He whispered. Frank smiled, repeating the same act, placing an identical band on his love's finger, placing a small kiss to the cool silver._

“ _Forever.”_

 

The rubber mask obscured his vision, but only a little. He was able to see the white vehicles approaching him. He didn't care, they didn't matter. The only thing that mattered now, was the fact that his plans were complete, that he could actually do what he had been planning all these years. The motorcycles stopped in front of him, not even bothering to turn off the engine as they pulled a white gun out of a holster of the same color. He didn't move, allowing himself to be captured by the Draculoid, his wrists bound uncomfortably behind his back. He closed his eyes, listening to the sound of his breathing over the rush of wind in his ears. There was something missing, but then again, something was missing everyday nowadays. Nothing was whole anymore, not since the incident....

 

_Frank rolled over, feeling the warm sun on his bare back. The windows were open, letting in the cool morning summer air. He smiled, smelling coffee as he got up. Grabbing last night's discarded boxers he pulled them up to his hips, walking out into the living room._

“ _Gee?” He called into the small studio attached to the small room. When there was no answer Frank moved toward the kitchen, grabbing two coffee mugs from the cabinet above the coffee maker, and pouring one for himself, and one for Gerard.  
“Hey, are you asleep in here?” Frank asked, walking into the empty studio. Comics littered the floor, sketches and paintings hung the walls, the cluttered mess that was the drawing table contained a new sketch, one recently done with charcoal and pastels. He set the coffee mugs down, panic beginning to flood his senses. If Gerard had gone out, he would have left a note, unless he was just gone for something for breakfast, and he'd be back any minute now. That was it, he had just left to get breakfast. Frank walked out into the living room once more, turning on the television and switching to the news.   
“_ _ **Better Living Industries Rebellion Ends in Total of Twenty Dead,”**_ __The headline at the bottom of the screen read. Frank watched, listening as they discussed the effects and the causes.

“ _The company has been known for it's control of everything, the establishment of Zones, and has even been blamed for the increasing poverty rates in the country. Heading this shooting, is a Killjoy by the Name of Party Poison,” The female newscaster reported. Frank's heart dropped, watching the picture of his husband appear on screen, “Who was later identified as Gerard Arthur Way-Iero, and his brother, Kobra Kid, or Micheal Way.” Frank froze, remote poised in his hand. Ice felt like it grew around his heart. A loud 'Bang' rang through the small house, causing each of the dogs to bark as loud as they could. Frank moved on auto pilot, his feet carrying him toward the door, even though his heart and his brain told him to just go back to sleep, let this all blow over... Frank opened the door, coming face to face with a very saddened Ray. Frank just looked up at him, his eyes glazed over, not even registering the words coming out of his mouth._

“ _Ray...” Frank started, completely unable to meet his friend's gaze, “Shut up.” He said, walking out of the house. Frank sat down on the porch, staring up at the sun._

“ _Frank... He's...” Ray stopped, his own voice choking out at the end._

“ _He'll be here,” Frank said, crossing his arms and resting them on his drawn up knees._

“ _Frank...”_  
“He promised me forever, Ray. I'm keeping him to that promise.” Wet trails led to small drops on his arms. Tears fell freely from his eyes as he sat on the porch, the cool morning air biting at his bare skin. He knew, of course he did... He didn't even say goodbye this morning...

 

He spat out a clot of blood, waiting for the next hit, challenging them with a simple upturn of his chin. The hit came, snapping his head to the side, making him fall from the cold steel chair. Soon, he'd be free. He'd be happy... 

“Get up you worthless Killjoy.” One of the men spat, grabbing his arm and hauling him up. They'd want a body to add to their collection once they were done. Just another reminder that Killjoys never survived. He smirked, feeling the weight of the envelope in his pocket. The envelope containing the very last words of his love. The words _'Never Let Them Take You Alive,'_ were scrawled on the front, neatly outlined and proportioned. The letter itself was about three pages long, but one word seemed to stand out to him the most, _'Forever.'_

“Hey! What the fuck, you think we're done with you?” The man pulled him up again, smacking him back to reality. Yeah, a few more minutes, they'd get bored and let him go. That's when it would happen. The two men in the pristine white room with him took turns, one would punch him in the stomach, the other in the face, and so on. He didn't care, he'd been rendered numb two years ago, everything just passing him by. They had always wanted a rebellion, and this was as rebellious as it got.

“I think he's out of it,” One man said, pulling his bruised and bloody face to meet his gaze.

“I'm done with him,” The other said, wiping his bloody knuckles on his pants, staining the white fabric with violent red.

“Same,” The other said, dropping him unceremoniously on the floor again. Once they left the room, he moved to the wall, propping his aching body up against it, pulling his jacket off and then his tee shirt. Smiling, he raised a hand up to the camera in the room, holding up his middle finger as his other hand dropped the detonator.

“Forever,” He whispered, a small smile on his face as the room exploded around him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I tried to incorporate 'Bang' in each and italicized paragraph... It just seemed to happen, and it worked out pretty well.... Comment your thoughts below.... I own nothing again! I own nothing!!!!!!!


End file.
